co-leaders: returning
by penwielder62
Summary: the 100: after we part. installment (6) of (8). post season two finale. it's a long road back to being what they were.


**co-leaders + returning**

installment (6) of (8) in my meta series " _the 100 + after we part_ "

(continuation to _bellamy + she's home_ )

(credit to the creators of the 100 where it is due.)

* * *

Bellamy struggling with allowing the moment with Clarke to slip away when someone comes looking for him ( _the kids are part bloodhound, he's sure of it_ ), his fingers clenched to keep from reaching for her as he gets to his feet, only half-listening to Marshall speak–something along the lines of _confused the schedule_ and _don't know who_.

Clarke seeing the war within Bellamy– _Bellamy, Bellamy,_ ** _Bellamy_** –and smiling to cut through his fear and appeal to the source of it. (That she's going to leave again and she can't blame him. Never will be able to blame him.) _Don't worry. I told my mom I'd meet her for dinner. I'll see you later._ The look he gives her tells her that he's going to hold her to that and then he's gone and it feels like her lungs have constricted.

Bellamy hunting her down just a couple of hours later in the makeshift dining hall–maybe the kids got the tracking skill from _him_ –, when she's surrounded by the Delinquents and some of the adults, smiling with a genuine warmth he hasn't seen in a long, long time. (Since she'd escaped from Mount Weather, since she'd come running to him.) And then taking a seat on the fringes of the cluster, where he can see her ( _it's enough_ ), and settling in to eat his own meal.

Clarke seeing him come in but being in the middle of a conversation with Harper–telling her of what it's like to have sand between your toes–and only looking up once Bellamy's already sat down. Then realizing that he's sat where his line of sight to her is clear. And she _understands_.

Bellamy getting up before dawn the next day, not having slept, because his body is humming with anxious energy. Telling himself that _she's here_ and _she's safe_ and _everything will go back to normal_ doesn't work. Everything has changed and all he wants is to see Clarke. (The sentry is surprised but doesn't protest when Bellamy takes over the rest of his shift.)

Clarke waking up when the sun crests over the horizon, the effect of months training with Rael hard to ignore. Creeping out and wandering through the slowly stirring camp. She should feel more at ease–she's home, where she belongs, and it feels like something's _wrong._

Clarke pausing when she sees him and realizing. Nothing's _wrong_. Just _different._ Everyone's different now, herself included. And she's proud of that fact–that they have flourished in hardship.

Clarke taking a quiet pride in Bellamy, even if her only involvement was when she forced him to it. He's gained a confidence, a surety of step, and an ease of motion that tells her of how well he has settled into the role of leadership.

Clarke spending a moment just watching, gaze travelling over broad shoulders, unruly curls, corded arms and darkened skin. Signs of hard work and long hours that he wears.

Bellamy turning when he hears a soft greeting and stilling when Clarke comes alongside him, blue eyes still sleepy from the hour, and he wants to hold her again, to feel her warm in his arms, breath against his skin, but restrains himself, settling for a quiet utterance of _morning._

Clarke smiling at his gruff tone and glancing out at the fields surrounding Camp Jaha, arms crossed to keep warm.

Bellamy looking away–when has that gotten so hard?–to let his gaze wander over the same area hers does and _I'm really glad you're back, Clark_ e. (He has forgotten how right her name sounds.)

Clarke leaning her shoulder against his and nodding. The words stick but she has to say them. For him, she has to. _I know you have questions, Bellamy. Where I've been. Who I've met. You can ask_.

Bellamy not needing to see her face to know what it took to offer that to him, because how could he _not_? This is Clarke. It's been eleven months and he still knows her better than anyone, even Octavia. ( _not now, Clarke. you don't need that now. there's time for all of it later. when you're ready.)_

Clarke pausing before she says _but you need it_ because her brain catches up and reminds her of who she's talking to. This is Bellamy. Not her mother. Not Kane. Not Raven or any of the others. He _doesn't_ need this from her because _she_ is enough. (She's always been enough for Bellamy, even when she fails everyone else.)

(the tears well up without her permission.)

Bellamy noticing Clarke's tears and remaining quiet while she works to regain her control. There are times to speak and time to be silent and he's dealt with enough crying females to know which this is.

Clarke finally just whispering, _will you tell me about the kids? everything's changed so much_ because she's waited two days for him to come back so she could ask _him,_ not anyone else, because Bellamy deserves to be the one to recount their accomplishments.

Bellamy unable to keep from grinning, just for a brief instant. How long has he waited and how hard has he worked to make sure this moment would be worth the pain of reaching it? Clarke's approval is important, not just to him, so he starts from the beginning and does his best to make her proud. Of all of them.

Clarke closing her eyes against the brightness of the climbing sun as she listens to Bellamy–how she has missed that voice by her side–smiling at the moments of humor he interjects.

Bellamy continuing until the inevitable interruption arrives in the form of Miller, who gets a peculiar sparkle in his eye that Bellamy is not familiar with when they turn to him together, reporting that Bellamy's presence is required for a Council meeting and _morning, Clarke_.

Clarke smiling at Miller, pleased with the positive reception, then nudging Bellamy with her elbow. _Go ahead, Mr. Council Member. I'll catch up with you later._

Bellamy hesitating despite her encouragement, because _blast it_ he wants her with him but the peace in her blue eyes reminds him that there is time for all of it later. She's back and it's enough. _I'm holding you to that._

Clarke watching Bellamy start to walk away and feeling a sudden burst of desperation because she didn't say it, can't let this moment end yet and _Bellamy!_ and he's ready to come right back to her but she smiles and says, the words familiar, _you did good_.

Bellamy having to restrict the wash of emotions that race through him at the soft utterance to a _thanks, Clarke_ otherwise he will not be able to keep from going over there and kissing her, priorities be blasted.

(if he walks a little straighter and misses most of what Miller says to him after that, Miller is kind enough not to point it out.)

Clarke spending the rest of the day drifting from one spot to another, helping where she can and providing company to those who desire her presence, and getting an idea of the magnitude of Bellamy's role in the day-to-day activity of Camp Jaha.

Bellamy finishing his duties as the sun is setting and going to find Clarke, who's lingered at the fringes of his thoughts all day, and she's on a log beside a bonfire, watching the goings-on around her. (He pauses to watch her for a moment.)

Clarke smiling when he sits down on the ground next to her feet, back against the log she's seated on, curls wild and back-lit by the bonfire.

Bellamy leaning his head back so he can meet her gaze, uncaring of how odd the angle will make him look, and the firelight has darkened her eyes to a deep blue that will haunt his dreams. (Her name gets stuck in his throat.)

Clarke hesitating, because yesterday had been spur-of-the-moment grounded in a desire to comfort but now–now it would be merely for herself, but something in his dark eyes tells her it will be well received.

Bellamy going boneless when slim fingers tug through his hair, loosening knots and soothing the dull headache that he gets at this time of night. The hum of contentment that escapes isn't intentional.

(they linger as the night slips past and people trickle off to bed.)

Clarke moving to settle in at his side, pulling her legs up to her chest but letting her head lean against his shoulder. Has he always smelled this way, of forest and earth and strength?

Bellamy resting his cheek against her hair and closing his eyes, but refusing to fall asleep, because this moment is too important to him. There is no telling when she might put him back at arm's length.

(she watches the dying fire dance against the black of the sky and knows exhaustion–there is no way to describe the slow drain today has had, after she asked Monty what had been done with the Mountain People.)

(he can feel the strain in her and wonders what has happened in the time they've been apart but does not comment on it. he tells himself the arm he slips around her is for her sake.)

Clarke falling asleep against her will, pressing close to Bellamy before she slips away. (Breathing out his name, wanting to ask him to stay.)

Bellamy cradling her close, willing to sit with the log digging into his back and risk the neck ache come morning if that's what it takes to keep Clarke near just a little bit longer.

(things are different, _they_ are different, but they've both changed for the better. maybe it will take time to find the same stride they had a year ago, but they will find it.)

Bellamy ( _leader, councilor, hunter, brother_ ) presses a kiss to the crown of Clarke's ( _lost, found, broken, healed_ ) head and settles in to sleep as well.

 _Dawn will come soon. And they will greet it together._

* * *

(end _co-leaders + returning_ )

thanks for perusing this scrawl


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